Just
by Old Romantic
Summary: Post 1x05, Word Count 1,158, Between Angst & Romance, Contemplating the change of Mick's feelings for Beth from protector to lover.


**Title: **Just

**Rating: G/K**

**Word Count: **1,158

**Genre/Ship: **Angst/Romance – somewhere in-between (MickBeth)

**Spoilers/Timeline: **Up through 1x05-Arrested Development

**Disclaimer: **Money spent on writing fanfiction: Zero dollars. Money being made on fanfiction: Zero dollars. Getting feedback from readers: Priceless.

**Summary:** Contemplating the change of Mick's feelings for Beth from protector to lover.

**A/N: **Enjoy!

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**1/1**

She was just a child. A victim of violence on his account, a pawn in his wife's game to try to win him back. He never could've let an innocent little girl die for such a reason, so he killed his wife to save her and took her home.

But that wasn't to be the end of his association with her. He nearly ran into the child with her mother a few months later while following a lead on a case, but he stayed back, just…watching. She was happy and laughing and seemingly back to normal, and it made him relieved to see her that way. But still, he couldn't let her go.

A year later, it was he that sought her out when he wondered how she was doing, and he watched her play on the playground at her school from across the street. Then the occasional monitoring became regular activity, whether he made sure she got home okay in the afternoons when she rode her bike from school, or as she got older and she began going out with friends and later, boyfriends, or simply watching her as she went about her daily routine and extracurricular activities.

Fortunately, she was never in serious danger again, so he hadn't felt the need to step in and rescue her at any point. And if he had, what could he have possibly said?

But his overprotective need to make sure she was safe changed when she met him as an adult. He'd been mesmerized, watching her walk across a waterfall pond, having changed so much in the few years since he'd allowed himself to see her last, afraid that he was becoming too stalkerish for his liking.

There she was and he could only stare and not move…until she saw him.

He knew there was no escape, and he'd have to talk to her – not that it wouldn't be pleasant to have a conversation with the woman he'd distantly watched over her whole life. But what would he say?

Keeping to short, simple answers and mysteriousness, he allowed her to question his familiarity until she dropped the subject and asked for his advice for a title on her report. And he teased her a bit, veering the topic away from vampires by reminding her they don't exist (what a laugh), and when she turned to glimpse back at the crime scene they were both interested in, he made his escape. What was he thinking? He never should've spoken to her to keep the distance he'd practiced for twenty-two years.

But despite his inner rebuking, he spoke to her again the next night.

She was just a reporter doing her job, and he was caught when she broke into the very apartment he'd broken into, trying to find a clue to a murdered girl's killer. He could've escaped unseen, but he hadn't been there long enough to find anything helpful to the case, and his desire to talk to her again was stronger than he'd ever anticipated. He supposed that after twenty years of watching and not being able to talk to her, the eagerness to do so was just too overwhelming to control.

Soon he found himself working with her over the next few days, regardless of his inner objections, and he did his best to keep her at arm's length. Until she touched him, and everything changed.

He was just an immortal who hadn't been touched by a human in over fifty years, or at all, other than the interactions with his wife before her death. But it had been over two decades since then.

He'd once heard that the innocent touch of the hands and face were actually acts of intimacy, but it had been so long since he'd experienced it, that it came as a shock when he felt her hand on his…and it awakened something long dead in his undead heart. But he couldn't let himself become attracted to someone he'd guarded as a child. It was sickening to think so – almost incestuous. He was her protector for twenty years, and their age differences were astronomical; he might even be considered a stalker to some on the outside of the situation looking in. There was a plethora of reasons for him to keep his distance, both emotionally _and_ physically, if he had the mind to stop seeing her.

But that all changed the moment he had to step up and save her life.

He'd never felt fear and dread grip his immortal soul so tightly before that night, nor had his visions of the immediate past ever been clearer. They'd always been useful, but not vivid like they were now. It was her that had changed him – he was sure of it.

Once safe and in his arms, he took her to his apartment to clean up before taking her home. But she woke up quicker than he expected – he hadn't even had time to change his bloody shirt – and she shocked him by immediately recalling that night so many years earlier when he'd saved her as a child. But to have accomplished something as a human would be impossible, and he couldn't reveal himself as anything other than that to her…right?

He went with the safe choice, pretending to be human as he'd grown accustomed, waving off her suspicions as the results of trauma. And then he offered to take her home and unthinkingly held out his hand to help her up from his couch.

Her second touch was like fire to his skin – not painful but all-consuming – and he could not do anything but watch her stand and lock eyes with his. He just stared and waited for something to happen; both fear and excitement flooding through his veins in anticipation.

He wasn't sure what he was expecting, but her immediate hug took him by surprise. And then, feeling as if released from a virtual prison made by his own hands, he relaxed, and allowed his arms to wrap around her. Confused by the emotions running rampant in his body, he just held on and let her hold him in her arms, burying his face against her shoulder.

Over the next weeks, much would change, secrets would be revealed, and trust would be built. She learned the truth about his existence – something he'd never trusted to anyone – and accepted him anyway. She didn't see him as a monster. She offered her blood when he was dying and convinced him to take it when he argued. She cared about his undead life. She revealed her attraction to him and kissed him – the first time in twenty-two years he felt the pleasure of someone's lips on his. She knew what she was doing and let him enjoy it.

She was just a woman, standing in front of him, offering her love. And he was just a vampire, with a man's desires, powerless to refuse it.

_End_

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Thank you for reading!


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